Boy, Interrupted
by neppie
Summary: When Draco is covered in an experimental potion over the summer, comedy, drama, and rivalry soon follow as he is forced to live his days as a girl and only reverts to his male self once the sun has set. Slash, HD aka HarryDraco.
1. The Beginning

Title: Boy, Interrupted

Author: Nepenthe

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Harry/Draco eventually, Blaise/Seamus

Format: WIP

Rating: R

Warning: Draco turns into a girl during the day. Not much more warnage than that!

Disclaimer: I own the idea, but not the characters. Or something like that

Summary: When a potion goes wrong, Draco has to deal with the aftereffects while a cure must be found…

This was going to be ridiculously rushed, he thought. Draco shredded Hickery and Gent roots carefully as he watched the mints melt into liquid above their little flames. Downstairs was the uproarious laughter of family and friends, and loud music that made the floor hum underneath his feet, causing him to grit his teeth in annoyance. All he wanted was some quiet, but that seemed impossible with the constant goings on his father's friends and their wives. All summer he had to deal with them and offer his hospitality like he actually enjoyed their company, when really, he just wanted some time alone. He could not practice with so many people in his house, especially when they could hear him. He had to hide his notes now from snoopy cousins and greedy friends in fear that they would be found and be shown to his father. If Lucius knew what Draco wanted to be doing with his spare time, he would probably kill him personally. No Malfoy is everkilled by anyone else but family. Draco wasn't sure if he should be proud of that or not.

Sighing, Draco scraped the chopped roots into his open palm and threw them in the cauldron that was full of clear water. After watching the draining time glass, he slowly emptied one vial after another into the cauldron, each content changing colors; black, blue, yellow, red, and finally green. Vapors of some sweet aroma rafted up from the thick stew and Draco leaned over closely to look at it, spoon at ready to stir. For his Advanced Potions project, he was supposed to make an original potion that had some sort of purpose and worked. After playing Malfoy Charming and being social all summer, Draco had forgotten about the project until the last moment, one day away from returning to Hogwarts. Snape wouldn't be impressed that his favorite pupil didn't do the assignment, even if he did know how busy he was playing Death Eater son.

Draco bit his lip nervously as his spoon just barely touched the churning liquid before it exploded. Draco was thrown backwards and landed gracefully on his bed with the splatter of green liquid all over his person and his room. Before he could reach up and wipe the liquid off, it was disappearing and soaking away. Frantically, he checked his face where just moments before it was covered and found nothing left; it had dried right into his skin. Draco watched the liquid on his clothes begin to do the same thing and so he began tearing them off frantically. But he was too late; he could feel the potion being sucked in by his pores. Gulping, Draco tore towards the bathroom and threw himself in the shower with half of his clothes still on and jerked the water on. He danced around in the spray, trying to get himself cleansed as quickly as possible. After scrubbing his skin raw, his arms, chest, and torso red from clawing at himself with soap, Draco took a moment to breathe. He looked himself over slowly. No pimples, no furry hair where it wasn't supposed to be, no new limb or appendage. He didn't feel strange either, like being drugged or compelled to tell the truth or anything. He tried a few lies and found no problem spitting them out. Maybe the potion was a dud and couldn't do anything. Draco sighed with relief. Thank Merlin.

"Draco? Sweetheart, Pansy is here to see you," Narcissa called from his bathroom door. Draco waited for her to blow up about his destroyed room, about all the green guck splattered everywhere. But she didn't say a thing and he could hear her loud heels clicking away from the door. Quickly, Draco scrambled out with a towel around his waist and peeked into his bedroom again. It looked like nothing had been touched, besides the wrinkled sheets when he was thrown from his potion set.

"Hmm," Draco mumbled. "Well, that's useful. Maybe Snape would like some disappearing potion? Might be hard to find..."

"Dracooooo..." Pansy called from the hallway.

"Maybe it will make me disappear," Draco muttered and tried veryhard to blend with the wall. It didn't seem to work because his mirror started making suggestive catcalls.

"Sweetie, you don't need that towel around me," the mirror cooed, stretching its glass in a wave. "You and me don't have to be shy at all."

"You're right," Draco nodded. And promptly threw his towel over the mirror, which groaned in loss.

Draco woke up that morning with two things. One was a sweet aroma surrounding him, making him smile and pull his pillow closer. Second, was his mother screaming in outrage.

"Get up!" Narcissa screamed hysterically. "I thought you were gone already! Damnit, Draco, you've completely missed the Hogwarts Express!"

"WHAT?" Draco yelled, jerking up in bed and forgetting that familiar smell.

"Honestly, Draco, you're seventeen and I don't have TIME to baby you all the time!" Narcissa yelled at him before slamming the door behind her as she left the room.

"I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO!" Draco screamed back, fury making his cheeks beat red, before he leaped from the bed to get ready. He dashed around the room collecting his things and swinging his wand around to order objects to pack themselves. His mother had been a regular bear ever since this entire war started up. Draco liked to think that she didn't want him to go fight, but she had been treating him so coldly these last couple of years that he had long ago given up on that idea. Sometimes, he would rather face fully trained Auror wizards than look at his mother's expression one moment longer. As for his father...well, Lucius and Draco had never been close. So he was not disappointed or angry when Lucius spat something vicious or never gave him praise for anything he'd done right. This switch in his mother's personality made Draco burn with anger because she was the only thing that could make his insides sting.

"HURRY UP!"

"SHUT UP!" Draco screamed back, throwing some of his glass vials across the room when his temper reached its peak.

Needless to say, Narcissa's and Draco's parting was a cold one.

Draco ripped out his parchment and quill as soon as they were on the road to Hogwarts, the carriage rocking back and forth. He sprawled himself out on the little floor room he had and let the ink sway precariously back and forth in its glass case as he dipped his quill in and began to write furiously.

_Have you forgotten_

_everything that I wanted?_

_Gotta get away_

_It will never be the same_

_We are so different now_

_Have you forgotten,_

_do you forget it now?_

"Crap," Draco whispered furiously at his hideous scrawl. He didn't know why he kept working on this stupid song. He couldn't sing it anyway; it was too high for him to reach...and too personal. But he did, regardless. He knew he wouldn't sing it even if he wanted to, even if he could. His father would never allow him to do what he wanted to do with his life. He was supposed to go into the war when he graduated and fight. He would never...

Sighing, Draco looked over the other scrawls of little sayings and lyrics he had thrown hurriedly on this piece of paper. One he was quite fond of and he ran his pale fingers over the dried ink.

_Does it comfort you to know you fought the good fight? _

_Basking in your victory, _

_Hollow and alone _

_While you boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who'll listen._

_While you're left with nothing tangible to gain._

When Draco first wrote it, he thought it was about his father. But later, after he read it, he realized to his surprise that it was about Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. Draco roughly rolled the scroll back up and capped his ink, shoving his belongings back into his bag. Over the last two years, Harry Potter had grown more popular, more heroic, and more desirable to anything living. Much to Draco's annoyance. After awhile of girls fawning over him and having people faint whenever a touch of bare skin appeared out from under his clothing, Harry finally figured out that, WOW, I must be pretty hot. And he had been unbearable ever since. If he were attracted to a girl, she would throw herself at him. Harry had a line of old girlfriends that would start from one side of the Great Hall and extend to the other. He never stayed with a girl long and Draco could see why; he always picked brainless idiots who could think of nothing but complimenting him on how the sun caught his hair.

Those girls SHOULD be fawning all over Draco. He was the one with the money, with charming looks, with WIT! Harry couldn't string two words together. But instead, he was just second best. He always had the girlfriend who clasped his hand but was looking starry-eyed at Potter. And he always had the boyfriend who was probably imagining that it was Potter fucking him.

Draco kicked his trunk repeatedly.

Maybe he didn't really care about the girls fawning over him. He was more partial to men anyway. But watching Potter succeed in something once again without even trying was just too much. He wanted to see Potter humiliated. He wanted to watch Potter fall for some twit hard and then get his heart broken. He desired that more than he could ever desire Potter's body like everyone else.

The trip was hard on Draco and he couldn't really understand why. When his anger started to subside, he beganto get sick. His pelvic area was constantly cramping up and making him clench it to release the pain. He tried to lie down, but the carriage had only enough room for him to curl up and he needed to stretch his body out. Soon, the nausea began and the dizziness. Nothing could distract him from his ailments, not even Potter, who had effectively distracted him for the past six years. Instead, all he could do was moan and wish he were dead. Thankfully, he arrived to Hogwarts soon after and stumbled from the carriage, pale and sweaty. His servant, once he came around the horses, took one look at him before he started running for the castle. Draco took a much slower pace and just made it through the large doors when someone swept him up before he hit the floor. The black robes were coarse on his skin, but dry and Draco clenched onto them. His clothes were soaked from his sweat and he shivered.

"I just need to lie down," Draco heard himself whisper, his vision dimming. "Need to lie..."

"Draco, stay awake," a firm voice said. "You need to tell me what happened. You need..."

Draco, blissfully, passed out.


	2. Transformation or Please Let This Be Tem...

Draco blinked his eyes open partially and squinted, looking through his lashes at the dark green covers surrounding him. Closing his eyes again, Draco buried his face into the pillow and tried to will himself back to sleep. But he couldn't. Perhaps it was the slits of sunlight coming through the window behind him or maybe the illness from the night before still lingering. Sighing, Draco rolled onto his back and sat up, the sheet falling from his bare chest. God, his chest felt heavy; maybe the illness had settled into his lungs. Scratching his stomach, Draco was surprised that it felt smooth and soft. What happened to the muscles he had worked on during the summer? Draco looked down.

And stared.

Stared some more.

"Holy shit," Draco choked out, staring at the set of small breasts sitting on his chest. Shaking his head, his heart started to beat faster. "No. No. No." Draco lifted the sheet and fumbled a shaking hand between his legs.

Draco started screaming.

And when he started screaming, he jumped out of the bed and ran for the bathroom that he saw through an open doorway. He threw himself in front of a mirror and stared at himself, breathing sharply, the corners of his eyes darkening. His hair had grown overnight and it was like a cascade of hot silver that fell past his hips. His WOMAN hips. He had curves now; hips like handles for a man's hands to grip onto, with small, bare breasts sitting lazily on his chest that were perfect handfuls for his palms. His lashes were darker, fuller, and thicker; his lips seemed larger and Draco traced the perfect contours with shaking fingers. He didn't look himself at all. The only thingsthat even resembled his old selfwere the high cheekbones, cold blue-gray eyes, and the color of his hair. Everything else had changed. Everything else! He wasn't even a...wasn't a...

"Draco? Are you all right?"

Draco whirled toward the voice, seeing Snape who stood in the doorway and staring wide-eyed at the petite girl standing nearly naked in his bathroom. After a moment's hesitation, Draco grabbed the towel closest to him and wrapped it around his upper body, feeling weird, uncomfortable, and completely overwhelmed.

"No," Draco sniffed, sure he was going to cry, sure he was going to faint. "I'm not!"

One of those things happened. Draco fainted.

With a pack of ice on his head and a large robe on his body, Draco squinted at the dumbfounded expressions of ProfessorsSnape and Dumbledore. After reviving Draco and calming the hysterical boy down, Snape had put him in an old robe and dragged him to Headmaster Dumbledore to tell them at the same time what had happened. At first Draco was indignant; how the hell was he supposed to know why he was a sodding girl? But when he began to think about it, he remembered that blasted potion he was brewing the day before and his cheeks began to flame up. He then had to explain to them what kind of potion he was _trying_ to make, which was all the more embarrassing. It had been a worry-free concoction that Draco had brewed from his notes and various similar potions. Draco suspected that the tree mints he had used was part of this disastrous effect. Mints were commonly known as the 'beginning' or 'starting over', while Gent roots was flippantly mentioned at the end of the text as 'switching'. Whatever that bloody meant. These two last ingredients must have acted harshly with the rest of the potion and each other; tree mints were pretty touchy, especially if you got them ripe.He realized it was, after all, his fault; no one had put a curse on him and no one was laughing gleefully at his humiliation. Knowing that he had put this upon himself seemed to make it only worse, mostly because he had no idea if there was a cure or not.

"Well, you make a very pretty young woman, Draco," Dumbledore said after a few moments, his eyes twinkling. Draco's thick lips tightened; of course, Dumbledore the Great Gryffindor Lover would find this amusing. Especially because he was a Slytherin. It was no secret who the old man favored. If a Gryffindor had managed to do this to himself or herself, Dumbledore would be barking orders for people to find a cure immediately. Draco knew he would receive no help from the Headmaster.

"I'm glad I could cheer up your day," Draco spat, standing up. "I guess I'll just go, then."

"Mr. Malfoy, please sit down," Dumbledore requested, the twinkle gone.

"Why?" Draco grounded out. "You won't help me."

"I will try," the Headmaster said softly.

"Draco, sit down," Snape snapped impatiently and Draco sank back into his seat.

"First things first," Dumbledore said, standing up in a businesslike manner. "There is a chance that this will just fade away within a day. Or it could be permanent."

Draco paled, sinking further into his seat.

"Either way," Dumbledore continued, "we have no information on Mr. Malfoy's condition. I suggest we wait a day to see what happens before we go any further with this."

"I'm not going to class like this," Draco said immediately, straightening.

"No, I don't believe you should either," Dumbledore replied, his eyes lingering pointedly on Draco's attire, before turning away to address Snape. "Severus, please tell the students of your house that Mr. Malfoy is sick and had to be moved into a private chamber for their own safety."

"My own room?" Draco cried, eyes wide. "Fantastic!" At least one good thing had come from this. Even if the free room came with a package of feminine products. That thought drowned Draco's good mood instantly.

"Very well," Snape said, with a curt nod. Draco sighed, slouching back in his chair with his legs spread out before him. He could only hope that this was temporary.

_It's not the sale that you love, **it's** the sell_

_It's not the price that's going to cost you_

_It's just the weight that's going to bring you_

_Down_

Draco sighed, looking up from his parchment as he disgustedly pushed it away. All of his lyrics sucked today, all of them. He hated them; he hated them so much, why did he bother anymore? He threw his quill at the paper as he got up, going toward the window to watch the sunset. He was feeling a little tired and he thought about his bed behind him. His own bed, his private chambers. Dumbledore had kept his word and Snape led him to the base of some stairs that would lead them into the dungeon. Instead of continuing to go down, he had stopped at a large tapestry and pulled it aside. There had been a small corridor and a locked door behind it and Draco nearly whooped with glee. Okay, he really did. But it was more like a squeak of joy because his voice was so high and it stole the blissful moment away. No more Crabbe and Goyle whose snores shook his bed frame. It was too bad that this hadn't happened sooner (the single bedroom thing, not changingintoafreakthankyou), because Draco might have saved himself from those late night visits that Blaise was so fond of. Not that it hadn't been a bad thing, it was actually -

Ahem.

Anyway, Draco decided he needed some privacy. He didn't want to share breathing space anymore and he didn't want to be quiet when he wanted to scream. It was lucky that he had his own bedroom to retire to, away from the Slytherin dungeons, especially with this new predicament. And here, he could write when he wanted, play when he wished...

Draco found himself a little short of breath, and a slight pain was growing in his lower stomach. Hunching a bit, Draco gasped and reached out for the curtain before his knees gave away. Faintly, he heard knocking on his door.

"Draco, are you all right?"

Shit, Draco cursed as the pain started to subside. Shit, he should have locked the door...

"You look a little pale," someone clutched his upper arm and started straightening him up. "I heard you were sick. Come on, I'll help you back to bed."

"Blaise?"

"Who else?" the boy said, helping Draco stumble toward his bed. Draco's legs weren't cooperating with him; he was too shocked. How did Blaise know it was him?

"I brought your guitar with me," Blaise said, ripping back the covers. Draco let Blaise push him into bed.

"Don't I look...different to you?" Draco asked hesitantly, his voice weak.

Blaise looked him over, seeming confused. "Did you cut your hair?"

"Cut my-" Draco squeaked. "Get me a mirror. Quick."

Blaise, looking annoyed, did as Draco asked and tossed it carelessly on the bed. Draco scrambled for it and looked at himself.

He was a boy again.

Draco whooped when he saw himself - his nose, his thinner lips, his normal looking eyelashes. Hair down past his chin - it was him again! The potion faded away!

"YES!" Draco yelled, punching a fist in the air.

"Yes, you do look delicious," Blaise said blandly, before reaching down and tossing Draco's guitar on the bed with him. "Please say you're going to move out this year so I don't have to hide that at my house anymore."

"Whatever you say," Draco replied, fixing his beautiful hair that was the right length and everything.

"-naked with whip cream," Blaise said, Draco catching only the end of it. He blinked up from his mirror and looked at his friend.

"What?"

"Well, you said you'd do whatever I said."

"But...I'm sick?"

"I was kidding," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "I'm going back to my dorm and to bed. You going to be in classes tomorrow?"

"Yep!" Draco replied happily, checking himself out again.

Blaise stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head.

"If I knew that mirrors turned you on, Draco Malfoy, I would have introduced them a lot earlier," Blaise said, walking to the door, and opening it. "Night."

"Night!" Draco chirped back, only half-listening, and barely hearing the click of the door closing before he kissed his reflection.

"Woo!" The mirror crowed. "I'm happy to see you too, sweetheart!"

"Lovely," Draco muttered, tossing the mirror facedown on the covers and hiding himself underneath the sheets.


	3. Being a Girl and Its Advantages

Draco woke up the next morning still happy and completely refreshed. He stretched in the robes that he had slept in, extending his fingers to touch the velvet curtains around his bed before crawling out of the cool sheets. As he walked to the bathroom, he strummed his fingers across the strings of his guitar still lyingat the end of the bed and smiled with satisfaction at how it sounded - perfectly in tune. Draco went straight to the bathtub and started his water, grabbing his shampoo and body soap that still lay in his bag; he had been too distraught yesterday to unpack himself. Draco started taking off his clothes when he glanced at his reflection.

Draco started screaming.

* * *

"It's never going to go away!" Draco wailed in Dumbledore's office, trying really hard not to break into little pieces in front of them. Normally, he did not cry. But this was just too much. He was a GIRL, when he was just a BOY, but now he was a GIRL and not a BOY and dear Merlin-

"Get a hold of yourself," Snape snapped at him.

"I can't-" Draco sniffled. "These stupid girl emotions are slobbering all over me."

"That would be your pathetic whimpering," Snape grumbled, rolling his eyes. Draco couldn't even think of a reply to that one and started wiping at his cheeks.

"It appears to me, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said charmingly, holding a plate of lemon drops in front of Draco's face, "that you are a girl during the day, and then a boy when the sun goes down."

Draco sniffed then politely took one, putting it in his mouth. He immediately began to feel better. "What am I going to do?" hemumbled around the lemon drop, wiping at his crusty eyes. Damnit, he hated crying. "I can't go to class like this."

"No, I don't think so either," theHeadmaster said, shaking his head. "At least, not as yourself."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked warily, looking up.

"Well, you have two options, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, turning to lean back on his desk and putting the lemon drops down. "You can wait in your room until a cure is found for your condition. We don't know how long this will take, but I'm willing to bet that you'll be stuck this way for a while. Thus, you'll have to start your seventh year over again because you will have missed too much class. Or-"

Draco didn't even like the first option. He KNEW he wasn't going to like the second.

"You can go to class under another alias as a transfer student," Dumbledore said. "We'll say you, as Draco, are taking private lessons, while you, the Girl, continue on with your schedule as usual."

Draco stared at the Headmaster.

"I believe this is the most reasonable answer, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said seriously. "You'll never catch up with your classes if you do not attend them properly."

"I...I-"

"Good, it's settled then. You'll need some clothes, I'm afraid, so we must let a female student know of your current arrangement and see if she will lend you something."

"But I-"

"Professor Snape, who do you suggest?"

"NOT a Slytherin!" Draco blurt out quickly. The two teachers stared at him questioningly. "If they know, everyone will find out...including my father."

"You do not want to tell your parents?" Dumbledore asked, his old eyes wide. Draco shook his head firmly. "Why not?"

"Oh, that would be a charming conversation," Draco spat out sarcastically. "Daddy, I'm a girl now, but I'll always be your little boy. Please still love me."

Dumbledore and Snape blinked stupidly.

"He'll kill me!" Draco blew up, waving his hands dramatically. "I'm serious, he will kill me! I'm no use to him for the war if I'm a petty girl-" Draco clamped his jaw shut when he saw Dumbledore's hard eyes.

"I see," the Headmaster said.

"Dumbledore, I believe I know the perfect lady for Draco," Snape stepped in. "Nobody would believe her if she told anyway."

"Who do you suggest?" Dumbledore asked, looking tired.

"Luna Lovegood," Snape answered.

* * *

"I guess this makes you a Ravenclaw now," the girl said behind him, putting on her ridiculous Butterbeer cap earrings. Draco scowled at his girly figure and tugged his skirt lower - why the hell did girls have to wear skirts? They are in the twentieth century!

"Blue doesn't really fit you," the girl remarked from her bed.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Draco snapped back, fixing his bra. And if he was stuck being a girl, why didn't he have bigger boobs? These things were just pathetic. What were they called? A-cups? More like soddin' Let's Forget The Cups Because You Don't Need Them.

Luna shrugged her scrawny shoulders that had to contain more bone than actual flesh.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter what color you wear. You're a transfer student and you don't belong to a house, so..."

Draco played with a long strand of hair as he thought about that. Heck, he could wear Gryffindor colors now if he wanted to. Catching himself curling his hair around his finger, Draco grunted and threw it behind his shoulder.

"Look, do you-" Draco started.

"Do you want something to pull that back?" Luna broke in, getting up from her bed. Draco snapped his jaw closed. How did she know he was going to ask that?

"Here, I'll do it for you," Luna said helpfully, gesturing towards the chair. Draco sat cautiously as he tried to remind himself to keep his legs closed and Luna stepped in behind him, taking up a chunk of his long hair.

"Make it tight," Draco whispered, staring disgustedly at his reflection. Luna shook her head, but said nothing and started doing as he asked.

"So, what are you going to call yourself?" Luna asked, brushing some of the tangles free.

"Dumbledore decided that Davina would…" Luna pulled sharply at his hair and Draco had to take a moment to recall himself when the pain distracted him. "Uh, would symbol that I'm still me without setting everyone off about who I am."

Draco's eyes were watering by the time Luna was done pulling back his hair in a tight, prim ponytail. Luna eyed him a moment before putting the brush aside with a sigh.

"You can't really do that with hair so long and thick as yours," Luna said. "You'll probably pull it out by mid-day to save yourself the pain."

"I will not," Draco said immediately, grabbing his wand. As if to prove his point and resolve, Draco flicked his wand and his skirt turned green.

* * *

Luna was right, of course. By the time his third class came around, his head was screaming. He really felt bad for girls who had to deal with this all the time. Before Potions, Draco dashed into the bathroom to let his hair out. Even now, he was still surprised to see to himself. Even though he looked completely different, he was waiting for someone to recognize him. He was so nervous this morning that he had rejected Luna's invitation to breakfast, the only student that knew who he really was, and flew down the staircases to Flitwick's class. Thus, he had missed the pleasant announcement about his 'arrival' that Dumbledore made to the entire school and the curious heads that turned left and right to catch the new girl. It was for this reason that he was surprised when students filed into class that no one asked about him. Er, her. He could only assume that pulling back his hair had worked and people didn't notice a new Slytherin girl sitting in the mass of bodies.

He completely missed the stares that were burning into the back of his neck.

Nor did he notice the whispers.

"She's kind of pretty," a boy whispered to his friend, staring at the smooth skin of the girl's neck. "Her hair is drawn back so tight, though, that it's making her eyes squint."

"Probably a prude," the other whispered and the group of boys mumbled in agreement, before going back to their Charms homework.

Sighing gratefully, Draco started to tear out the band holding his hair together...but it literally began to tear his hair out with it.

"OW!" Draco cursed as a toilet flushed. "Son of a mother's dog!"

"You all right?" someone asked as shecame out of the stall behind him. Draco glanced at her inthe mirrors and immediately stiffened. It was Hermione Granger.

"Do you need help with that?" Granger asked, coming to the sink to wash her hands.

"Of course not," Draco snapped back, started tugging again, and winced.

"Here," Granger said and brushed away his hands. Draco was pleased to see that HIS hands were much prettier and free from ink stains. She started tugging lightly at his hair and realized that after playing with the thing all morning, his wavy strands had gotten tangled and knotted. After a few tries, Granger loosened it and slipped the band from his long locks.

"There," she said, handing it back to him and starting to leave.

"Um, thank you," Draco said quickly, snapping the hair bandana on his wrist. Hermione stopped to look back at him and smiled...waiting. Draco groaned inwardly. Fluffing his thick hair and putting some lift back onto the top of his skull, Draco reluctantly followed the Mudblood back into the halls.

"I have Potions next," Hermione offered uncertainly, smiling. Draco bit his tongue from sighing.

"So do I," he admitted, holding onto his books with one hand and sneaking another hand behind him to tug roughly on the ends of his hair.

"You're the new girl, right? Davina?" Hermione asked. "Would you like to sit with me?"

"Um..." Draco didn't know what to say. First, Hermione knew who he was. Second, sitting with her would mean probably sitting with the Weasel (dear Merlin NO) and Potter (sob). But then Draco thought of his options. He could either sit with the slobbering heroes that would protect him or sit with the Slytherins who would only be so willing to help him "catch-up" in Advanced Potions with "late-night sessions" and…Yes, yes Draco would rather sit with the Trio and endure the Triangle love fest then his housemates. Sighing, he nodded curtly and they walked down the hall in silence, their steps quick so they weren't late for class. They just barely made it through the door before Snape and his flowing dark cloak. When the Potions Master slammed the door shut behind the two girls, everyone turned around to look...and gawked.

* * *

Harry was having a rough beginning of school. First, he was nearly pummeled to death by Goyle and Crabbe when they forced themselves into his train compartment, demanding to know what he had done to Draco. Then he had gotten into a fight with Hermione AGAIN after dinner, something that didn't even bear repeating because it was so stupid, and now Cidy, his current girlfriend, was fighting with him as well. Apparently, he hadn't owled her enough during the summer. He TOLD her how his relatives were - why couldn't she understand that? Or at least REMEMBER? He was pretty sure they were going to break up soon. Harry hadn't figured out if he was happy or sad about that yet.

At least he had managed to patch things up between him and Hermione this morning.

He was beginning to wonder where she was when he heard the door slam. He turned around in his seat to offer a small smile, but it faltered in midway. Instead, he was looking like everyone else at the girl standing behind Hermione, staring wide-eyed back. She looked like she had just walked into a room of naked people and hadn't decided if she should run from the room yet or pretend she was invisible. Harry knew this must be the new transfer student. Devia? Dona? Diva? Damnit, Harry couldn't remember. She was absolutely...breathtaking and Harry's cheeks flushed as soon as the thought entered his mind. He never really thought a girl was breathtaking before; pretty, yes, beautiful, absolutely. But...Harry found himself tongue-tied and he wasn't even near her. Her long hair was really what did it; it fell around her in white-blond waves, and instead of making her skin look pale, it made her iridescent. She had dark blue-gray eyes thick with black eyelashes and lips that were cherry-red. Harry had never seen such thick, red-pink lips in his life. He was staring so hard at them that he was startled when the girl licked her bottom lip nervously.

"Over here," Hermione said, glaring at everyone who stared. She grabbed the girl by the wrist before she could bolt (Harry watched her feet begin to twist toward the dungeon door) and dragged her to their table. His table. Oh, God, his table.

CidyCidyCidyCidyCidyCidy.

"Oh man," Ron groaned next to him, shifting loudly in his chair as he turned away. "I know I'm not going to get any work done today."

CIDYCIDYCIDYCIDYCIDYCIDYCIDY.

"Ron Weasley and Harry Potter," Hermione introduced politely. The girl didn't even nod in acknowledgementInstead she was eyeing some Slytherins in the back who looked like they were about to leap out of their chairs, grab her, and drag her into the herb closet to have their wicked way with her.

Oh, hell. Cidy would understand if he had to protect the girl from being mobbed, wouldn't she? She looked absolutely terrified and the color had completely drained from her cheeks.

"Here," Harry said, standing up and offering his chair. "You can-"

Hermione easily slipped into the chair next to Ron. Harry blinked at her.

"Or not," he finished. The girl licked her bottom lip again, sighed, and took the table behind Ron and Hermione. Harry maneuvered himself to sit beside her, feeling stupid.

"Um, I don't know your name-" Harry started, his words choking up in his throat.

"Davina," the girl said curtly, whipping out her parchment and Potionsbook with a furious intensity. Harry watched her dumbly for a minute before doing the same. Snape started talking then and even if Harry could find a moment to talk to...Davina, he found himself at a lost for words. He could only stare at her for the entire class period.

When the bell rang, Davina sprang up from her seat like a jackrabbit and grabbed her things quickly. Harry tried to be just as fast, but in the end she just bundled everything she had in her arms and nearly ran for the door.

"Hey, Davina-" he called, his voice suddenly peeking its cowardly head up.

"Not interested!" She screamed back. The room was still full of students at that point and those who were just getting out of the door halted roughly. Davina screeched to a stop, almost running into them, and cursed loudly. Everyone was staring at Davina and Harry Potter.

"Huh?" Harry blinked, wondering if he completely missed something.

Davina looked torn, like she was debating crawling over everyone's head to get out of the room or turning around to face Harry. Eventually, her heels turned and she looked at Harry for a long moment through her eyelashes. Harry didn't realize how hard those eyes were.

"You were staring at me the entire class period," she said, beginning to smirk. A few boys started chuckling as well, though they were just as guilty as Harry. "You couldn't keep your eyes off me."

"I-uh," Harry started, gripping onto his bag and books, looking dumbfounded.

"You're going to have more than a name to get my attention, Harry Potter," she said, her eyes glinting maliciously. "Maybe get plastic surgery. You aren't very attractive."

Everybody was beginning to laugh and Harry's ears were literally burning up. Why the hell was she doing this!

"Now stay away from me," she said firmly. Her eyes had now turned to public hatred. Harry was slightly taken aback. Why did she hate me? He hadn't even said anything to her! Harry's temper was beginning to climb. Before he could yell at her, or maybe strangle her pretty neck, she was scooting out the door between the laughing bodies of Harry's schoolmates. Furious, Harry finished packing his things and ran out of the classroom, not even waiting for Hermione and Ron. He was going to catch that little snot and demand to know what her problem was.

But when he reached the hallway, he found that she was already gone.

* * *

Draco was all smiles for the rest of the week. He had humiliated Harry Potter, in front of everyone! A girl had rejected that idiot in front of EVERYONE. Draco was so pleased with himself that he didn't even mind his problem for a couple of hours. It had gotten him what he'dalways wanted; to make Harry Potter the fool. And people were so attracted by Draco's appearance that he could burst out laughing in the middle of class and everyone would follow even if they didn't know the joke. He could faint in the middle of the hallway and people would hold him up over their heads and carry her - er HIM - along like some God. Beauty had its quirks.

It also had its annoyances. By the time the day ended, Draco was ready to scream at everyone. He was tired of guys leaving open seats next to them, staring at him all the time, and he was sick of the girls' jealous whispers. Sure, it was nice for everyone to fall all over him when he walked into the room. But he didn't WANT this. He didn't want people to notice him because he had hips, long hair, and breasts...well, maybe not the breasts, but that was enough. Why didn't he get this kind of attention when he was a guy? Oh, and the jealously didn't exist either. Now, in just one week, his name was already on the bathroom stalls about being a bitch and he always had to make sure he wasn't sitting in front of a girl, because they would gleefully dip his hair in their inkbottles. Childish tactics and all because of attention he did not desire after five minutes. He was getting snippy with the admirers now once he found out ignoring them failed to work. When he was guy, he didn't have a problem telling people to fuck off. When he was girl, he had to tell them ten times for them to get it through their thick skulls. He was about ready to acquire claws and just simply rip people to shreds if they came near him.

So, by the time the day ended every night, Draco was ready for some release. He would excuse himself from Luna's side at dinner, fly up the stairs to his secret room, and get his guitar. He usually waited until sunset before he began playing, but he couldn't wait. He paced back and forth in his room, waiting for the bloody sun to set, but he was so tied up inside that he was about ready to burst all over the room. He strapped the guitar around his body, pulledhis hair free, and ran his fine nails over the chords. Utter bliss immediately came and Draco sighed, closing his eyes. He never tried singing with his new voice and with his new body. He was afraid that his voice sucked even more that it had before or...that it was actually pretty good.

Draco played the introduction to his new song, licking his lips as he thought of the words. Even if his body was different, he was still the same person. He was still happy when he played, he still loved to write down lyrics, and he still loved to sing. Sometimes, he ached to just sing, because it was the only thing that made him drift away from the annoying chatter in his ear and the slight caress on his arm or leg.

Draco drummed harder on the instrument, closing his eyes, and swaying.

"This is where I start to bite my nails."

Draco rocked harder, scraping against the strings of his guitar, until it was just pure rock with no real rhythm or attention; just mindless drumming and finger hopping. The lyrics were going on his head, but he couldn't move his lips to sound them. Instead he flew across the room, his arm tight and straining, and jumped on the bed, and threw himself off it. He kept running and playing, throwing himself on anything he could ricochet off. Chairs tipped over, his nightstand and center table were knocked to their sides, and pillows flew across the room. He was rocking like a guy, the only way he knew how to; girls didn't fall to their knees, sway their heads back and forth, and jamGirls didn't throw themselves around; they were too afraid of being hurt. Girls didn't throw themselves at walls, pull themselves away from gravity, and run to the other side of the room.

But. They _should_.

His arm was getting tired, but he kept going on until it was too painful. He ripped the pick away from the strings and panted in the center of the chaos, staring at his ruined room with wide eyes.

Somebody began clapping.

Draco jerked his head around in surprise and was relieved to see only Luna standing by the doors. She was smiling, and she sidestepped the chaos as she drifted further into the room.

"Didn't know you liked to play, Draco," she said, flicking back his short hair. The sun had fallen during his mad rage on the room and he had transformed without noticing.

"Not many do," he replied.

"You were wild," Luna said seriously, staring at his eyes with a deep concentration.

"The evidence lies around your feet," Draco said, looking away to stare at his destroyed room. He didn't want to clean this up.

"You were beautiful," she said. Draco snorted with disgust and unbuckled the guitar from around his neck.

"Beautiful," Draco snarled at the room. "Yes, I know." He tossed the instrument on his wrinkled sheets, sprawled from bouncing on the springs.

"Being beautiful is the most uncomfortable thing in the world," Luna said, nodding her head as she looked at the damage. She started lifting a table back onto its legs.

"Tell me about it," Draco sighed, helping her.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow morning," Luna said. "Get you some proper clothes. Weekend and stuff."

"There…There isn't a clothing store in Hogsmeade," Draco argued, putting a pillow back on a chair.

"Yes there is," she replied, picking up some broken glass. "A second-hand store-"

"I'm NOT going to some second-hand store," Draco snapped immediately. Luna looked up from her task, slowly, not even fazed by his raised voice. "Malfoys always have brand new clothes sewn especially for-"

"Ah," Luna said, smiling. "But you aren't a Malfoy, are you?"

"Inside, I am-"

"No, Draco," Luna said, handing him the glass which he mindlessly took. "You are Davina and Davina can do and be whoever she wants. She doesn't have Death Eater parents. She doesn't have Malfoy codes to look up to or she doesn't have to be someone she isn't. She can sing and play if she wants to."

"But-"

Luna started walking for the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Davina." And closed the door behind her.

Draco stood there for a moment, staring at the broken glass in his hands before jerking his head up toward the door.

"Aren't you going to help me clean up?"


	4. Potter and Davina's War

It was close to eight in the morning when Draco decided he was properly transformed enough to go downstairs and get some breakfast. Opening the door, he was surprised to find Luna waiting for him. She smiled in greeting, her necklace charms dangling quite loudly in the morning, then mutely grabbed his arm, wrapped herself around it, and started to lead him down the stairs. It took a moment for Draco to recall that she had pined him into going to Hogsmeade yesterday and desperately, he searched for an excuse.

"I haven't eaten-" Draco started.

"Don't need to eat," Luna said cheerfully. "We'll eat at Hogsmeade. Is the transformation getting better?"

"Uh…" Draco had to wait for his mind to catch up with the conversation. "Yes. I didn't even notice last night."

"That's good," she said, looking straight ahead.

Were girls always so comfortable grabbing each other or was Luna just this extreme exception? The way she draped herself on his arm was slightly too intimate for his tastes.

"Luna…?" Draco mumbled, staring at their conjoined arms.

"Yes?"

"…Nothing," he sighed, letting it go. Girls were weird and he'dnever understand them, even if he was one.

* * *

After calmly discussing (whining) the fact that Draco was starving, Luna stopped long enough to grab a couple of hot cinnamon rolls, fresh from the open bakery. They steamed warmly in the chilly air, winter climbing towards them in the sunny morning. A short walk away and they were at Luna's store that she had gushed about yesterday. She only gave him a proper moment to suck off the frosting from his fingers before Luna snatched up his arm again and dragged him into the shop. When he walked through the doorway, Draco was ready to recoil from the dirt. He had always heard that second-hand stores were filthy places with dust building up layer after layer and…well, just the fact that someone **owned** these before you and **wore** them made them a little tasteless. Luna left him at the doorway, drawn to a jacket that was near and snatched it off the hanger.

"This is great," she whispered, eyes bulging. Draco had never seen her so excited before and stared at her and the jacket wearily.

"Its multiple colors," he pointed out. The jacket had every color on it, but they were muted colors--slightly tired looking --of red, blue, green, and black.

She tossed it to him and Draco caught it instinctively. "Try it on."

"Absolutely not," Draco said, holding the jacket away from his person.

"Davina," Luna said sternly. "Just try it on."

"Hello, Luna," the shopkeeper greeted her, bursting out from behind a rack of clothes in the back of the store. She walked to them and Draco was drawn to staring at the chopsticks in her hair and the large earrings dangling from each ear. She wore colorful clothes as well, a deep red and pink shirt with a green sash over flaring tan pants. She jingled every time she moved; maybe because of the earrings or the little charms on her green shawl.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, staring at Draco with alarmed eyes.

"This is Davina," Luna introduced. "Davina, this is Ms. Cutler. I'm trying to get Davina to come out of her shell and be herself."

"Oooh, you've come to the right place then," Ms. Cutler gasped, grabbing Draco and drawing him deeper into the store.

"Being myself includes silk and velvet," Draco protested loudly, before he was shoved onto a cushion that was made for plopping your feet on. He sat, bewildered as Luna and Ms. Cutler set to work and started bringing him handfuls of clothing. _How about this_? they'd ask. _Or this_? _This would look great, Davina_. On and on. They forced him to try on jackets, shoved him in the changing room to try on pants and shirts. Nothing that Draco would even consider wearing because they were tasteless bright colors and old Wizard fashions. One hat they shoved on his head reminded Draco of the hideous hat he sported third-year and thought was very brill. Besides, it was weird to be trying on girl's clothes and Draco felt his manhood was in serious jeopardy with the way Luna was forcing him to embrace his feminine side. So at first, Draco resisted. He refused everything they showed him, stuck his nose up in the air, and ignored whatever he was forced to put on, never looking at himself in the mirror. Then Luna, fed up, dragged him off of his high horse, forced him into the colorful jacket she had found when they first walked in, and shoved him in front of a mirror, holding his head in place. His long, tangled hair washed over the old jacket, so ancient that Draco couldn't even distinguish the time that someone would willing wear it to be cool. It contoured to his shape nicely, accenting the breasts he Didn't Have, and had large pockets on the side that could easily hold his hands and wand. It was ridiculous, but the thing was so beyond its prime that he had gone into 'retro', and…

Draco's face was beat red when he admitted that he liked it.

Now there was no stopping him. Three hours later, Draco was putting clothes on and off his body with supernatural speed, trying on clip-on earrings, and throwing on as many necklaces as he could manage. It was uncomfortable at first to accept his odd shape, but after a moment, Draco began to pretend that he was simply dressing up someone like Pansy or something and let it go. When he caught Luna yawning from the corner of his eye, he felt guilty…then grabbed her and started making her try on the clothes he didn't like. Now he was acting like a girl and complimenting Luna on that jacket, how did she find those earrings, can I try that on next? If it had been anyone else with Draco, he realized, he would never allow himself to act like this. But Luna…was Luna. She smiled and looked at him like he was someone else. REALLY someone else…or she was trying to draw someone out of him that only she saw. She didn't tease him when he let out his girly giggle. She didn't say a thing when he started dressing her like an old friend. For those three hours, Draco was no longer himself. He wasn't a Malfoy or an heir to a Death Eater. He was just the new girl at school who was going shopping with a new friend. For those three hours, he was a girl, a real girl, Davina, and there was no Draco in sight.

"Thank you for your business!" Ms. Cutler called as they walked out the doors, waving as best as they could with all the bags in their hands. They laughed as they left, trying to maneuver themselves out of the door side by side, when they looked up and saw him.

* * *

Harry dodged another mud puddle as he walked with Cidy to Hogsmeade. Her hair was pulled up in a red bun, her green eyes sharp in the morning sun. She was shifting her book bag irritably and kept glancing at Harry pointedly. He didn't understand what she wanted from him. After breakfast, he had asked her out to spend time with her - just like she wanted (and complained about). But she still didn't seem to be happy, even after taking her hand and letting her show him off to all of her jealous friends. Harry was beginning to get angry about the entire situation. What more did she want from him?

"Harry," she huffed finally. "Would you please carry my bag?"

"Oh," Harry mumbled dully, slipping it off of her shoulder immediately. Why didn't she just say so? He wasn't a mind reader; he was a GUY.

"Thank you," she said, but she didn't sound grateful. Harry sighed as he heaved the thing onto his own shoulder. Whatever.

"How is Quidditch practice?" she asked lightly, playing with a fiery strand of hair.

"Boring," Harry admitted honestly. It WAS boring. Because...there wasn't any competition. All of the Slytherins had thrown themselves into hiding when Draco had disappeared from their lives. There was no more taunting from the stands when they had the pitch. There were no more fights over who had it this Saturday or the next. Now that their leader was gone, they didn't know what to do with themselves. Harry needed competition. He needed to fight with someone!

Damnit, Draco had no RIGHT to ignore him like this.

"You look angry," Cidy said, squinting up at his expression. "Is that Draco Malfoy not giving you any peace again?"

"Just the opposite," Harry answered, fixing the strap on his shoulder. Christ, the bag was heavy. No wonder Cidy was being cranky. "I haven't seen him yet."

"I heard that he quit," Cidy said softly, looking away. "They're going to have try-outs soon."

"Why would he quit?" Harry demanded, turning wide eyes on her. Malfoy couldn't quit, Malfoy never backed down when it came to challenging him. It was just...The news completely flabbergasted Harry. Why hadn't he heard about this?

"How should I know?" Cidy sighed, leaping over a puddle as the town came in sight. "He bought his way onto the team anyway. You know that, Harry. Why not have someone with talent challenge you?"

Harry looked away and refused to think about that.

"What do you want to do first?" Cidy asked after a moment and Harry shrugged uselessly. He didn't want to decide. What he really wanted to do was go back to Hogwarts and...well, what?

How is it that life had become so boring for him all of a sudden?

"I don't know," Harry answered, looking around at the opening stores. "Why don't we just...window shop first?"

"All right," and she gave him a smile. Harry stared at it for a moment, his tense shoulders relaxing. Yes, this was why he liked her. Because when she smiled, when she wasn't in a bad mood, she was a person Harry liked to be around. She made him feel good, when she would touch his hand for no reason other than to hold it. They walked quietly together that morning, drifting down those shops that yawned widely with open doors. Cidy would catch his hand whenever she saw something she liked and Harry squeezed back, because he knew she held onto him because she wanted to. No one was paying them any attention here.

They were just about to go back toward the center of town, talking about which store they should go intofirst, when two laughing girls came out of a shop that Harry had barely noticed. He was about to dismiss them, about to turn back to Cidy, when a flash of white hair caught his attention.

The laughter died like it had been shut off abruptly.

"Luna?" Harry choked out, finally noticing her presence beside Davina. Luna straightened her shoulders, throwing a bag over her shoulder.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said neutrally, but her eyes were focused on his left ear. The sharp look of awareness that she had just been carrying was fading quickly to that hazy, far-away look she was known for. Davina stood behind her defiantly, holding bags of purchase loosely, and looking at Harry like he mud she just got all over her new shoes.

"What...What are you doing with _her_?" Harry asked, astonished. Of all the people...!

"We're friends," she said, now looking at his right shoulder.

"Friends?" He repeated, not willing to believe that Luna would choose someone so lowly, someone who was so -

"Harry-" Cidy started.

"How can you be friends with her?" Harry shouted, pointing right in Davina's face. The girl puffed up indignantly, mouth open to spit remarks back in his face. Luna stepped in.

"Are you to tell me who I canbe friends with?" Luna asked, her voice as hard as her eyes. They were focused on him now.

"It's funny, Harry," Luna said thoughtfully. "You haven't talked to me since fifth year and now you have something to say about who I spend my time with?"

"Luna-"

"I believe you have no right or place in the matter," she said politely. She looked down the street.

"Are you ready to go, Davina?"

Davina looked torn. Her hands were balled up and gripping her bags tightly now, her furious eyes switching between Harry and Cidy. If she were a cat, all of her hair would have been standing on end in a puffy display. Her lips were parted in fury; obviously trembling with words she was barely holding back.

"Davina?"

"Go on, Davina," Harry spat, furious with this situation, furious with this entire THING. "Your friend calls for you."

"That's a pretty bag, Potter," Davina snapped back. "Tell me, did you put those flowers on it yourself?"

"Davina-"

"Harry-" Cidy started.

"It's my girlfriend's-"

"How sweet," Davina cooed, though her eyes sparked flames. "Carrying her bag around like some pet-"

"I AM NOT A PET-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Cidy, fed up, stalked away from Harry.

"Cidy!" Harry called, about to step after her.

Davina laughed cruelly and repeated his words back to him. "Go on, Potter. Your girlfriend calls for you."

Harry stared at her for a moment with furious eyes, clenching Cidy's bag before dropping it to the ground. He remembered all too well the time she had humiliated him. He thought it was time to repay the service, especially with a street filled with so many people. Davina's eyes widened a fraction as he came near her, stepping back fearfully, before he leaned forward and swept her off her feet, knocking all her new possessions onto the ground. She was still for a moment, looking completely shocked, and that was all the time he needed. He took two steps then promptly dropped her again - right into a huge mud puddle. Dirty water splashed everywhere and the mud sucked her startled body right in. She blinked widely at her surroundings, before jerking furious eyes up at Harry. He couldn't even manage a laugh at the hilarious position she was in; instead, everyone in the street, students and adults alike, was doing the laughing for him. He glared back at her before turning and leaving.

* * *

"Davina, are you all right?" Luna asked, offering her hands to help Draco up.

Draco was burning from the inside, his body stiff from anger and humiliation. He knocked Luna's hands away from him at first, trying to pull himself up but he only succeeded in slipping and falling chest first back into the mud. People started laughing uproariously all over again and Draco's cheeks burned. This time, he took Luna's hands and she dragged him out. Draco's breath was hitching when he stood up.

"Come on," Luna said softly, taking his hand - her other hand clenching the bags of their new clothes - and led him through the crowd of crowing onlookers. Draco tried to keep his head up high, glared at everyone he passed, but it just made them laugh harder. In the end, Draco could only bend his head, eyes squeezed shut against all the pointing, all the loud laughter. He let Luna lead them through it all; he was too busy holding himself back to navigate. When he finally opened his eyes, they were nearing the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta swung the door open as Luna reached for the handle, like she was waiting for them the entire time. She had been.

"I heard!" She fumed, her cheeks an angry red and her hair like afurious tornado behind her. "I heard what Harry Potter did to you!" She immediately ushered them into the warm bar, taking the bags that were slipping out of Luna's hands. She threw them on the counter, and then started tending to Draco like an overbearing mother. She smoothed his long, muddy hair back and for some reason wiped his cheeks and underneath his eyes.

"Don't cry, honey," she said, smiling. Draco blinked at her, jerking. He WASN'T crying…was he? As Rosmerta started taking off his muddy school robes, Draco swiped at his cheek and came away with a salty wetness. He stared at his fingers in shock.

"Go near the fire, you two," Rosmerta ordered, rolling Draco's robes up in a dirty ball. Draco was too numb to really move, so Luna took his hand again and helped him towards the back of the bar, where they sat quietly. Luna was staring at the flames and Draco was staring at his hands. The numbness from having Rosmerta mother him was receding. Now his anger was returning. He was startled when Rosmerta shoved some butterbeer underneath his nose. He blinked, then mutely took it.

"-a despicable display if I ever heard one," Rosmerta ranted, putting her hands on her framed hips. "No excuse would ever suffice for this outrageous treatment. Harry Potter should know well enough how to treat a young lady no matter what!"

Draco managed a small smile as he took a sip from the butterbeer. He didn't feel much better until he took a bite of chocolate that Luna offered him. God, women were so weird.

"Anyway, those are on the house, dears," she said, deflating slightly. As if on instinct, she smoothed back Draco's hair again. Usually, Draco wouldhave jerked away from the contact of a stranger, but instead he straightenedup for the touch and smiled back at Rosmerta, his eyes stinging in that one moment of tenderness. Girls were very touchy, weren't they? Draco wondered as he watched Madame walk away.

Draco and Luna fell silent again, feeding themselves on butterbeer and the chocolate Luna had dug out. It was just barely pass noon when Luna finally spoke up

"How do you feel, Davina?" Luna asked, jerking her eyes away from the fire.

Draco calmly finished a piece of chocolate before wiping his hands clean.

"I need to wash my hair," Draco said. "And then I want to see Harry Potter."

* * *

Everyone in Hogwarts had heard about what Harry had done to Davina by the time lunch was served. Everybody was abuzz about the news, some angry, some hysterical, some extremely amused.

Ron and Hermione were everything.

"If I did that to a girl," Ron gulped loudly, "my mum would kill me."

Hermione poured herself another glass of lemonade, completely silent.

"But it was ruddy brilliant!" Ron said, grinning. "It was a perfect revenge for what she did to you in Snape's class."

"I don't know what possessed you, Harry," Hermione said calmly, shaking her head. "I mean, you've never lost your temper like that before."

"Except with Draco," Ron pointed out, his face twisting up in a grimace.

"But this is a _girl_," Hermione replied, astonished. "Harry, you threw a girl into a puddle of mud!"

"S-So?" Harry replied back, shrinking away from her wide, shocked eyes. He swirled his soup with embarrassment. "I guess it wasn't the right thing to do, but she made me so mad…I didn't even realize I had done it until it was done."

"Well, I agree she's completely haughty," Hermione said, buttering her toast with a sigh. "But…Harry, you saw that she wasn't very ordinary. She probably gets sick of boys staring at her all the time. Maybe she expected someone…with your own popularity to not notice. She probably has to act like that to get people to leave her alone."

"No, she doesn't," Harry snapped back, his mind drifting back to the horrible laughter that still echoed in his ears. "She didn't have to humiliate me like that. I didn't even DO anything to her!"

"Well, now you did," Hermione said simply and bit into her toast.

There was a rustle of raised voices suddenly and Harry groaned, wondering what could possibly happen next. When he looked up, he was shocked to see Davina in between the tables, searching the faces staring back at her before she spotted him. Her eyes immediately flamed up and Harry swallowed thickly. She strode toward him, and everyone around her seemed to tense up, their voices rising higher and higher. She's walking right to Harry! they all screamed, eyes bulging. There's going to be a fight! more whispered. I bet Davina wins! No, Harry wins! Oh, my! Somebody has to stop this!

Davina's momentum was sure and confident; she crossed the short distance between them with long strides until she was right in front of Harry. He tensed to feel a smack across his face, or for Davina to start screaming at him. When she grabbed his tie, he was ready to bolt. Instead, she pulled him forward, leaned down to meet him halfway and took his lips with an open mouth.

The whole Hall grew silent, the only sound was the clatter of utensils falling from slack hands.

Davina's hair fell over him in wet tangles, perhaps damp from a quick shower. Harry was completely shocked; never had a girl kissed him with her mouth already open. Usually, he had to probe them open with his tongue. They were always closed-lipped, thinking it was just like the movies. Instead, Davina had made the first move and covered his lips with her own, sucking them in with no chance to escape. Her tongue flicked his bottom lip, and then her teeth as she raked the flesh fondly when she pulled away. He blinked his eyes open slowly.

Davina smiled softly at them. Then promptly dumped the pitcher of lemonade on his head.

The whole hall broke into applause, shouts, and hollers.

Harry stared wide-eyed at her, blinking. Davina balanced the pitcher on his flattened head like an architect putting the final touches on a project, and then pecked his cheek. When she pulled away, she whispered into his ear.

"This is war, Potter."

Then she straightened, and walked out the Hall with Luna amidst all the shouting crowds of students who, for that one moment, loved her.


End file.
